She looked into the distance, and the old terror flamed up for an instant, then sank again. Edna heard her father’s voice and her sister Margaret’s. She heard the barking of an old dog that was chained to the sycamore tree. The spurs of the cavalry officer clanged as he walked across the porch. There was the hum of bees, and the musky odor of pinks filled the air.
-Kate Chopin, The Awakening
Write a paragraph in which you create a scene through auditory imagery. The purpose of your paragraph is to create a calm, peaceful mood. Use one olfactory image to enhance the mood created by auditory imagery.
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The mild rustling of orangey leaves strewning the pavement, the quitened blowing of late-night blast, and the hushed humming of "sunshine" cabs, plunged Elena in a dazzling remembrance, body and mind entered an irrepressible trance. She heard the muffled conversations of the passers-by, the swishing of the former number of the "Old Gray Lady", and the mesmerizing, full-flavored Anthora's beverage flooded the foggy Big Apple.
ReplyDeleteMacha
She was treading on the marble floor. Her soft clanking footsteps echoed within the high stony walls of the church. Through the opened windows, next to the row of pews, she could distinctly hear the rustle of the nearby river wandering along the village. As she knelt to pray, whispers and a smattering of words came through her delicate mouth. The air they lifted as she pronounced them was swiftly stroking her hands put together before her chin. At last she rose again and her skirts swished around her ankles. She closed her eyes, awe-struck : oh how dearly she loved the smell of cinnamon released by this holy place!
ReplyDeleteIt was late in the evening. I was in my room, sitting in my rocking chair. I’ve always loved the winter evenings, with the crackling of the fire, the muffled sound of talks in other rooms, the jazz music from the radio set. Then I heard a creak. From the wooden stairs for sure. Mom always told me that when the house was creaking, it meant that she was alive and was protecting me. I got up, walked to my closet, opened one drawer, and took a tiny fluffy cushion. Oh what smell! I don’t know anything more soothing than lavender. Oh yes, I love winter evenings.
ReplyDeleteFlavie
I should have checked the clock when I woke up. Quietness droned over my eyelids. The window had stayed open though. The raindrops jingled on the plumerias' leaves outside. Actually the egrets did not dare to sing already. A whiff of jasmine and cardamom tickled my nostrils. As a response, the commissures of my lips chimed whith a moist sound. I turned my head left to gaze at your drowsy face. You were gone. I should have checked the clock when I woke up.
ReplyDeleteIt was fine, only two more stations and I could finally leave this overcrowded subway. It was at the peak hours and I was stuck from all sides. In front of me, was standing a man in a suit, shouting in his cell phone, maybe to one of his employees. Behind me, a woman was holding tight her little child to keep him from losing balance at the subway’s sudden brakings. A heavy smell of cigarette mixed with salted sweat was overwhelming my senses. I could tell that this disgusting smell was coming from the man on my right who was muttering and humming inappropriate bawdy songs. I could also hear the snare drums forming the music rhythm listened too loud in a teenager’s earphones. My head was about to explode when the doors opened and the crowd spread into the town center’s streets. When the doors closed again, I was the only person left in the subway and I could feel the intense and heavy silence contrasting to the earlier hurly-burly of the crowd. I was finally feeling at peace in this calm and peaceful atmosphere.
ReplyDeleteShe woke up and looked the clock on her nightstand. It was 2 am.
ReplyDeleteShe listened the wind crossing the window and meddling with the curtains. The sound of nocturnal insects merged with the warmness of the night. She closed slowly her eyes and heard him whispering in her ear. Mellow murmurs that evaporate in the smooth nocturnal hurly-burly. She lay on her bed. The pillows were impregnate of her lover's smell.
Anna Gabrielle
Once out of the taxi, my luggage in hand, I was struck by the outstanding beauty of the landscape that stretched as far as the eye can see, and the incredible sense of freedom that emanated from it. As I got closer to the water, I found myself carried away by the melodious ebb and flow of the tide and the waves' gentle lapping. On the sand, the sails of sand yachts were dancing like multicolored feathers blown away by the sweet murmur of the wind. The cries of stray seagulls replaced the city’s horns, they remained suspended in my head a few seconds before evaporating. The sky was a beautiful ballet orchestrated by the sibilant breeze where the blue mingled with the clouds' greyish hues. Then I closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and recognized the seaweeds' iodine notes.
ReplyDeleteShe just thought spending her last night in her hometown on the beach, alone, would be a tremendous idea. She had spent so many childhood days on this beach with her mother. She could remember it all: the seagulls' singing as they tried stealing every bit of food they could see, the smell of Diego's fur as he came back to her from the freezing water and her mom's scrumptious chocolate cakes they would bring every time they went to the beach. That night, everything was so much more still and quiet and a melancholic mood settled as the salty-ish scent of the sea and the noise of the waves breaking on the beach was overwhelming her senses.
ReplyDeleteEmma
When he woke up that morning, he had forgotten where he was for a moment. What was this bamboo bungalow in which his bed stood? It’s only after his ears’ awakening that he realized. The sound that was cradling him made him realize where he was sleeping. A very specific smooth, mellifluous sound was going on and on, endlessly. That whispering sound he heard was the most recognizable you could find; the melodic sound of the sea. He listened to the inoffensive waves that were lapping against the stilts of his bungalow. Suddenly his nose was filled with a tangy, iodized smell. It was the sweet smell of peaceful holidays.
ReplyDeleteWalking on the beach always seemed to calm him down whenever he was upset. He focused on the crackling of the sand under his bare feet, as the breeze slowly blew away the last echoes of the conversation he’d just had with his mother. He paused for a moment to watch the gulls land awkwardly and ponderously into the swollen waves and smiled at the offended crabs fleeing the spatter. He stood still, waiting for the beating of his heart to fall in step with the ebb and flow of the water, and let the fragrance of the brine fill his nostrils. He was ready to go back now.
ReplyDeleteI closed my eyes, standing at the open window. The wind was gently brushing the leaves of the nearest tree. A muffled grumble rose from the street, as cars bustled about shattering the drowsy silence of the morning. The light ringing of a bell resounded in the distance and echoed through the awakening city. A man whistled on his way to work. I was about to turn around but the scent of warm bread billowing up from the bakery reached my nose and I stood still, letting its softness fill my heart.
ReplyDeleteElsa
I have always loved chistmas time. The noise of the wind and the snow blowing outside seemed to me like christmas carols. The cracking of the fire tickled my ears while I tryed to warm up. My mom was playing piano and my grandma' singing. I was so excited to hear the rustles of the presents under the tree that I could not sleep at night. I still can smell the cookies for santa baking in the oven.
ReplyDeleteAntoine
After the long and tiring journey I had just experienced, I walked towards the beach feeling truly relaxed. Once there, I dug both of my feet in the sand and, after having appreciated the mesmerizing landscape that seemed to spread limitless before me, I closed my eyes. I let out a deep sigh of relief and paid attention only to the sounds surrounding me. The first thing I heard was the silence, profound, peaceful, calming, light years away from the constant hubbub of the city. There was only some disruptions coming from the ebb and flow in front of me, from the gentle cry of the seagulls and from the lively laughs of the children playing nearby. I was breathing in deeply when a gust of wind caressed my skin like a feather. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by the salty scent of the sea that felt like it was cleaning me from all the pollution I had to face everyday.
ReplyDelete7a.m New York City
DeleteI had'nt slept for four continuous, everlasting days. I longed to let the burden of my legs slide smoothly into the nice hot tub which I would spoil myself with, ounce home. I had put my earphones on in the prospect of avoiding any unpleasing interactions between my absent soul and the other human beings. My numb sences lingered on delicate rythmes of blues. Far off in the distance the hurrying of taxis echoed like reverberating bells. Muffled talks, shouts, laughters flowed away, fainting into the endless midwinter sky. The baleful cry of the wind urged passers-by off the streets. The gentle smell of rain pouring on the pavement aroused in me the most profound feeling of loneliness. I was alone with my tiredness; Alone in New-York City. I longed to be back home.
Charline
She turned off the light.
ReplyDeleteHe realised he was in the windowless room, he could not see anything, he couldn't see where she was. After a few minutes of stillness, he began to perceive sounds coming from upstairs. He heard his family everyday's routine. His sister, taking a shower, with the moaning sound of water running through the pipes. His mother, cooking her sunday mythical chocolate mousse. The incessant whisk against the iron bowl where the mixture merged into a delicate and light mousse. His father, playing the trumpet. The back-and-forth roaring of the instrument, overwhelming everything. And the whirring of the TV, the fridge, the washing-machine... He was were he could most secure : surrounded by his family, in the comforting space of hiw own house but at this moment, he felt vulnerable.
After a few minutes, she turned the light on again. She was right before him, looking incredibly luscious in the yellow light of the basement. Her big brown eyes starring at him. She pounced on him. It was all black again.
family's every day routine*
DeleteAs he woke up on a cool morning of November he was struck by a silence so unfamiliar it was almost overwhelming. It took him a few moments to remember the reason why there were and would be no gunshots and screams anymore. He lay there with his eyes closed enjoying the calmness of his surroundings for what he would later describe as “Maybe a few seconds, maybe a few hours. I lost track. For all I know it could have been weeks”. After a while he realised that what at first had felt like silence was actually full of all the small noises he hadn't heard in so long. He could hear the few birds that hadn't already left Europe for warmer horizons sing, the sound of the wind against the grass, bells of joy and relief ringing in the far away distance. The smell of powder and death had already started to fade, and as he got lost in memories and imagination, was being replaced by the sweet scent of his wife's lovingly cooked dishes and her delicious perfume that he loved so dearly.
ReplyDeleteThe war was over.
He was going home.
Maelle
While waiting for my lesson, stretching in front of the classroom, I could see the older dancer training through the windows. Strangely, not a sound escaped the room, and while I could see the pianist play, the music seemed to be contained inside the thin walls. on the other side, I was plundged into a deafening silence, hearing only the sound of my breathing as I stretched my muscles and articulations, whereas a few meters away, music fulfilled the space. As I watched the dancers train and rehearse, I tried to guess the tempo of the music, according to the number and the type of steps they made and the rapidity of the exercice, and the melody of the piano through the moves of their arm and which port de bras or port de tête they had. Suddenly, the door oppened as a dancer exited the room, and a burst of sound ran to me : the music and the steps, the sound and the image, were in total accordance. The melody differed slighlty from what I had imagined, but I had guessed right for the rythm. As the dancer passed in front of me, the smell of hairspray and sweat hit me, and I recognised the scent of hardwork and spray specific to dance, which withdrew as soon as the woman walked away. Focusing back on the classroom, I noticed the music had stopped. All I could hear now were the sounds of the pointe shoes hitting, slipping, turning on the floor, and the strong voice and rolled accent of the Russian teacher enonciating the French name of the forecoming steps.
ReplyDeleteI could hear the crashing of the tide echoing like a distant memory against the walls of my skull, repeatedly, a siren’s song. Wind blowing softly through the olive trees, making the leaves shake and whisper. Insects waltzing in circles to their own music, this sweet rustling of wings I liked so much. I lied there and closed my eyes, to see if I still heard the fairies of my childhood, all those things I could never see nor touch, the luminous sound of watered lullabies and broken twigs.
ReplyDeleteBut adulthood had washed away every fraction of magic from my body and all seemed perfectly rational, even with my eyes closed. I walked home, the smell of salt and crushed flowers lingering on my skin like sea water.
Oh I love that smell of Black Balsam. I remember that night. I remember every detail. The half moon shining in a clear starry sky. The glade of a forest of tall pines. The campsite in the middle of the open land, next to the still and silent river. I was lying in the grass, he was next to me, his arms around me. The fire in front of us was crackling. I could’ve stared at the dancing flames all night. I could perceive the voices of the others further back singing and laughing their heads off. They were probably drunk on some vodka cocktails. I kept on glaring at the mesmeric warm fire. The crickets were chirping, the owls hooting, and all kinds of mysterious sounds were coming out of the dark forest. But in my half-asleep state, I was not afraid; he was close to me. He was whispering kind words in my ear. I closed my eyes, holding his hands. I could hear his slow respiration. I could feel his heart pumping. His breath on my neck and cheeks. Oh I recognise that smell. That distinct sweetness of Black Balsam.
ReplyDeleteI sat on a park bench to enjoy the moment. It was a beautiful spring morning : I could feel the warmth of the morning light on my face. The whistle of the birds in the trees and the regular footsteps of walkers on the gravel surrounded me. I listened to the far-off laughters of children in the playground responding to the quack of the ducks in the pond.The wind brought the soft smell of fresh-cut grasses. I thought that life was worth living.
ReplyDeleteLucie
She had unintentionnally forgotten what happiness sounded like. She had forgotten about it as you would expect people to forget names or scents. But when she set foot into his house, it all came rushing back. The sound his fingers made while gently picking the chords of his guitar. The resonance of every note in the air. The quavers in his voice, the deep breaths he took, the lyrics he wispered. The crackeling of the slowly dying logs, turning into embers, the peaceful sound of the raindrops dripping onto the window glass. The simmering of the bubbles reaching the surface of the champagne glass, the Christmas-like smell of burning clementines, of the thorns of pine trees. Everything was peaceful, quiet, falling together to create what she considered being simple happiness.
ReplyDeleteIt was about noon in that day of august. I woke up quietly. My coffeemaker made a quick noise and turned on. I could hear drops of coffee falling in the container. Some purrs entailed vibrations on my duvet. I could hear another metallic sound followed by the smell of toasts. My windows were open and let soothing sounds of nature imbuing my room. It seemed like a hackneyed summer morning in Ivry-en-Montagne.
ReplyDeleteHe sat there for a moment and felt unusually good, forgetting everything about what had just happened as he closed his eyes and focused on his surroundings. The dog barking in the distance, looking for its master. The little boy humming this famous song across the street. The wind whispering through the birch tree. His feet tapping the ground one after the other, following the rythm of the little boy's song. His heart beating steadily. And the metallic smell of blood as he opened his eyes.
ReplyDeleteShe left her friends in a fury, she ran towards the ocean and suddenly she stopped. She decided to calm down and sat down. The blowing wind was whistling in her ears, she thought of her friends. She was staring at the waves that were noisily breaking against the ledge of the cliff. She decided to go back, she took a deep breath, she could smell the salty air. She was destabilised. She fell into the ocean.
ReplyDeleteIt was a calm, relaxing night as I shuffled across the paved sidewalk. I could hear the wind blowing the leaves in the air and pushing the branches to breaking point. The sound of bikes caught my attention and familiar laughs appeared behind me, my friends had caught up. We were all going in the same direction, toward the jazz festival a mile away and we could hear a saxophone playing. Then the most mellifluous sound of the evening appeared, a beer can being opened and handed over to me, I was at peace.
ReplyDeleteOn a cool fall evening, she was walking through the forest next to her village. As she rambled, she enjoyed the sound of the wind caressing slowly the few leaves that remained on the stout trees. She then heard a rabbit running on the tree branches and the fallen leaves that made her blench. She continued her slow walk and began to be scared of the ululation of the owls. A moment later, she realized how beautiful that evening was and took a moment to truly enjoy the smell of the majestic trees.
ReplyDeleteManon
As I walked into my garage, I saw my pair of ski. On this hot summer's day I heard the soft sound of my skis sliding on the fresh snow of Winter, the wind whistling in my ears and heavy packs of ice falling down the weakened pines' branches. Then, the scent of hot chocolate tickled my nose, warming my soul and casting my sorrows away.
ReplyDeleteValentine